Jasper String Quartet: The Kernis Project: Debussy
Sono Luminus

Multiple benefits accrue from this third and final installment in the Jasper String Quartet's presentation of Aaron Jay Kernis's string quartet music: the performers, from the remarkable material the composer has provided to them; Kernis, by the Philadelphia-based quartet (J Freivogel and Karen Kim, violins; Sam Quintal, viola; and Rachel Henderson Freivogel, cello) offering such a definitive and meticulously executed performance; and, finally, the String Quartet No. 3 (“River”) itself, which benefits from being paired with Debussy's String Quartet in G minor, Op. 10. The ‘shock of the new' that comes with the presentation of an unfamiliar work is alleviated by pairing it with an established one, especially a beloved classic such as Debussy's.

By way of background, the first chapter in the series appeared in 2011 with the coupling of his String Quartet No. 2 (“Musica Instrumentalis”) to Beethoven's String Quartet No. 9; the second followed a year later in presenting Kernis's String Quartet No. 1 (“Musica celestis) with Schubert's “Death and the Maiden” (Quartet No. 14 in D Minor, D810). In all three cases, the idea of combining Kernis's material with works by Debussy, Schubert, and Beethoven bolsters considerably the recordings' appeal. Having received two 2019 Grammy Awards and a Pulitzer Prize, Kernis, who teaches composition at Yale School of Music, is one of America's most honoured composers. One of those Grammys was for “Best Contemporary Classical Composition” for his violin concerto for James Ehnes, which will soon be issued as a recording featuring the violinist with the Seattle Symphony and Ludovic Morlot.

The Jasper String Quartet's connection to Kernis's music, which was immediately felt at the project's inception, reaches its zenith on the new recording. Commissioned by the quartet, his third quartet actually was programmed to be paired with Debussy's before the players had any idea of how Kernis's would sound. Yet as strikingly different as they are, they're nevertheless complementary. In Quintal's view, “The use of harmony as colour is striking in both pieces, and the use of rhythm and articulation as texture and pattern both distinct.”

Kernis's third quartet presents a fascinating Apollonian-Dionysian case study, the former seen in the symmetricality of the work's five-movement design: the opening and closing movements are roughly equal in length, the second and fourth shorter, and the longest in the middle. Though the first and fifth each open with a cello solo, they're otherwise contrasting in character, the opener dramatic and the closer tranquil. In keeping with the “River” theme, the material itself is Dionysian in the way it emphasizes processes of change, flux, and unpredictability. It's not chaotic, but destability is definitely present in the restless flow and development of the music. Stated otherwise, there's a wildness and tension in play that makes for exciting listening.

A flood of romantic outpourings follows the opening cello statement in “Source,” the strings entangling themselves in dense pizzicato and bowed expressions. The music advances inexorably, with rapid contrasts in tempo, dynamics, and mood emerging as it does so. Shadings of dissonance add an unsettling undercurrent to harmonious passages arising elsewhere, the music generally intense as opposed to serene. The second movement's urgency is captured in the title “Flow/Surge,” whereas contrasts of tempo and mood are again explored in the shape-shifting “Mirrored Surface – Flux – Reflections.” The fourth, “Cavatina,” is distinguished by outpourings, too, though this time of an intensely heartfelt, lyrical nature, while “Mouth/Estuary” closes the circle with violent surges of an almost animal-like aggressiveness.

Composed in 1893 when he was thirty-one years of age, Debussy's string quartet is the only one in his oeuvre, a detail that might seem puzzling if not for the fact that being so perfect a realization of the form perhaps he felt no subsequent attempt could match it. Unpredictability is blunted by familiarity in this case, and consequently the listener's focus shifts to assessing how well the Jaspers' rendition measures up against other recorded performances and how effectively it realizes the composer's vision.

“Animé et très décidé” opens with the wondrous motivic theme that's the foundation for the work; it's the melodic seed from which the subsequent material blossoms and that provides a wellspring for all manner of variations. The rhythmically insistent “Assez vif et bien rythmé” follows, a viola ostinato providing animation as the other instruments play pizzicato. Melody's key here too, particularly in the romantic theme that so lusciously courses its way through the music. The opening motive returns in “Andantino, doucement expressif” though this time gently, in shadowy form, and delivered at an ethereal, dream-like tempo. After the third movement reaches its exquisite resolution, “Très modéré – En animant peu à peu – Très mouvementé et avec passion” resumes where the third leaves off before gradually returning to the opening motive again, the movement artfully drawing its various strands together and accentuating the work's formal cohesiveness.

July 2019